Going Pink
by Nanaho-Hime
Summary: When the Professor dies, Brick is left to deal with an emotionally devastated Blossom Utonium. Problem is, he doesn't do emotional baggage and pink is most certainly not his color. Blossom/Brick companion piece for Strangers on the Sidewalk.


Going Pink

By Nanaho-Hime

N/A: I own nothing blahblahblah

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Chapter 1

He felt a bit like a stalker.

Not that he was a _willing _stalker, but he felt like a stalker non-the-less, and it was all because Drama Queen Utonium had decided to throw all caution to the wind and disappear off the face of the planet. Not that he _cared_, but apparently there were people who did care and, of course, by some bizarre, cruel twist of fate he had been relegated the task of trying to knock some sense into her abnormally thick skull.

Now, this alone, would not have been cause to feel like a creep, but he'd just had to enquire about her place of work, her work schedule and the route she took when she walked home. If that wasn't a tad stalkerish, he did not know what was.

He was glad that he had an uncanny sense for storms, because when the torrential downpour did begin he was well equipped with battered red umbrella in hand. He cursed under his breath at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. If he was being honest with himself, school had become significantly less interesting since Blossom had dropped out, but he would never have had the motivation to seek her out, had it not been for the completely obnoxious goading and pleading of his younger brothers.

He did not know why they thought he was the best candidate to drag Utonium, kicking and screaming, back to school. It wasn't as though they were on the best terms, and he didn't think that she respected his opinion anymore than the opinion of her younger sisters, but, apparently, the general consensus was that his persuasive ability might sway her completely dunderheaded decision.

He fumbled in his pocket for the packet of cigarettes he was never without, his hands numb from the cold. It took him several attempts before he was finally able to light it. He took a long, soothing drag. She should have been passing by any minute now and he was at a loss as to what he was going to say to her. He'd never once interacted with her in a way that wasn't completely ironic or taunting. He exhaled smoke. She hated it when he smoked, not that that was anything particularly surprising about that, but he wasn't feeling particularly inclined to put out that cigarette.

It didn't take very long until he saw her out of the corner of his eyes, a lone, wilted pink pinprick in the hazy rain. He could feel himself tense up at the sight of her. He wasn't completely heartless as to not feel a twinge of sympathy for her. It was a feeling he wasn't comfortable with; he didn't like feeling anything other than distant dislike and occasional, condescending amusement towards her.

She walked right past him, her eyes downcast, her hair clinging to her face and back. The sweater hugged her too thin frame. It was the fact that she had walked right past him without acknowledging him that had really put him in an unforgiving mood. When he called out to her, there was a sneer on his face.

"Well, don't you look like a drowned rat."

She spun around, a scowl on her harried features. She was still graceful, he noted rather grudgingly, ever a powerpuff princess. She recoiled at the sight of his cigarette, her nose wrinkled in distaste. He took a long drag just to irk her.

"Go crawl back under your rock," she spat out with a vehemence that was new.

He thought it was admirable that she still possessed the air of a princess, despite her predicament. He knew that she was easily embarrassed and he knew that she hated to appear weak before him, arch-rivalry and all that. It was funny that she still had massive pride issues despite everything that was going on.

"Hey, chill out, pink," he soothed, inhaling deeply, "I just came to thank you."

This was not exactly the most conventional ways of persuasion, but his skills were limited to taunting and goading so this would have to make due. He knew she was a competitive person by nature and perhaps this would be the kick to snap her out of her obstinate escape from reality.

Because that was what she was doing, running away from the reality of her situation and of her sadness.

He was surprised that he knew so much about how her mind worked. (He was surprised that he had observed her so carefully)

"It was awfully nice of you," he dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his heel. He reveled in her subtle wince at his act of littering, "To just give up like that, never took you to be such a quitter."

She blinked, a brief deer-in-headlights look gracing her pretty features before it was replaced with an expression of utter fury. He noted how she clenched her fist, the sharp jutting of her jaw and he could feel the rage emanating from her tiny figure. He knew she was always tightly wound up, that she had a short temper, especially when it came to him, but now it seemed even the smallest of insinuations made her lose her cool.

He could tell she knew exactly what he was insinuating as well.

"Where are your stupid brothers," she replied flatly, suspicion in her eyes.

If only she knew, if only she knew how much they had prodded and pleaded and irritated him, so that he would just talk to her.

"Dunno," he shrugged casually, "probably out harassing your lovely sisters."

"I will never understand why they purposely interact with those oafs," she grumbled, shivering in her too thin sweater. It was obviously, painfully see-through and Brick would be lying through his teeth if he couldn't admit how pretty Blossom actually was. It was mildly distracting to put it lightly. She shifted her tote to her other shoulder, arms crossed tightly over her chest, "Why are you even here."

He grinned, a grin he knew that would never fail to irritate her, crooked and malicious in all the right places. He could see the defiance in her features waver.

"Just wanted to inform you whose number one in our graduating class now, oh infamous high school dropout."

The minute the words had left his mouth he knew that he had gone too far. Not that he was particularly remorseful—but he did have a certain code of ethics, and to call someone as neurotic as Blossom a high school drop out? That was low even for him.

Without a word, Blossom decisively turned her back to him and marched squarely in the direction of her home. He did not know why he did it. Maybe it was because she looked pathetic with her wilted hair bow. Maybe it was because she was so much smaller than he was and despite queenly airs, she still looked as though she hadn't slept in days or maybe it was because he wasn't willing to let it end in a way that made him feel as though he had lost to her in some way.

In any case he followed her.

"You're looking a little wet," he commented, holding the umbrella over her head. She looked up at him, distrust and disbelief dancing in her eyes.

She didn't respond to him and he kept trying to tell himself that that was enough, he'd done his begrudging good deed for the day, but for some reason he just could not _shut up_.

"You know," he commented as off-handedly as he could, "it's really boring, school, without you."

He sounded like a complete idiot and he didn't know why he wouldn't just _shut up_. She was looking at him with a curious expression on her face, as though she didn't know what to make of him. He doesn't know what possessed her to wear that color bra, with a white sweater, but it was distracting. She was trying to avoid puddles, so she was standing too close and he did not like it, not at all.

"There's no one I can really compete with," he continued cheekily and it made her smile just a bit and it sort of made him feel a little lighter.

"You're so overly-competitive," she murmured so softly, he could barely make out what she was saying.

Definitely the pot calling the kettle black.

"Oh, I'm the overly-competitive one?" he arched a brow. She flushed and stubbornly avoided his gaze.

After he judged the situation as semi-safe, he continued with his unconventional mission.

"Seriously though," he looked down at her, she flushed under his gaze and he felt a twinge of pity for her, "why did you quit, pink? It's not like you."

She seemed to get even smaller, "I didn't quit," she tugged on her hair, seemingly fascinated with the damp red tips, "I merely took an extended vacation.

He snorted in disbelief and she finally met his eye to frown in displeasure.

"Right," he commented sarcastically, "Because when I go on vacation the first thing I want to do is work three jobs."

She wilted again, tearing her gaze away from his, embarrassed and despondent.

"Bubbles is a big mouth," he tried to meet her eyes, tried to read her expression, "and she's worried about you."

When Blossom did respond he had to lean toward her to hear her.

"The professor died."

Ah, so the crux of the issue had finally appeared. Brick was shit when it came to comforting people. He never cared enough to comfort and when he did, he was much too emotionally stunted to even fathom saying the right thing. He'd have to tread these foreign waters carefully.

"I know," he responded cautiously, "it was all over the papers."

It was then that he cursed out his brothers and the rain and every passing car because Blossom Utonium looked as though she was trying her hardest not to cry and if there was one thing Brick absolutely, without-a-doubt never dealt with, it was crying girls.

They walked in silence, he struggled to find the right words to say. The sky grew darker and darker and the city lights grew brighter and brighter. The traffic thinned steadily as they entered the suburbs. He very rarely entered the suburbs. He'd always lived in the rougher parts of the city, so it was strange to see neatly trimmed hedgerows and quaint, white-painted houses. Blossom seemed to have steadied a bit, and he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Sorry."

She still wouldn't look at him.

"It's fine."

That was something that had always always bothered him about her. Her whole stupid, selfless, noble spiel. What the hell was wrong with being sad about a dead father? Why couldn't she scream and moan and rage at the unfairness of it all? Why did she have to be so damned stiff about it?

"It's not fine, you twit, " he grunted, kind of irritated, kind of sad, "your dad died."

He cursed himself as her lower lip fucking _trembled. _This was his good deed for the millennium, really. It took all of his courage not to go running in the other direction. He debated putting an awkward hand on her shoulder and decided against it.

"People are worried about you," he explained awkwardly, "Not just your sisters, everyone at school misses you."

She smiled lightly, relief washed over him.

"Besides," his grin wasn't spiteful, "It's quite the blow to my ego, that they aren't all ecstatic that it's my era now."

She rolled her eyes, but she seemed to have regained her composure. The rain was slowing to a faint drizzle. They finally paused in front of her home she seemed to be struggling with something before she turned to him, a determined glint in her eye.

"Thank you for walking me home today."

She visibly braced herself and he almost laughed at the sight of her, building up against some sort of verbal enemy force.

"Don't mention it," he allowed the briefest of smiles and she could not have looked more grateful for it.

She turned to her door and in that split second Brick made a very rash decision.

"Hey, Pink!"

She turned to him expectantly.

"Next time I'll pick you up in the car."

The look on her face was pure gold.

"No, you are not," she enunciated desperately.

His grin was wicked, his shrug was devilish, "Try me, then."

He saluted her mockingly before stepping brightly off her front porch. He peeked over his shoulder and she was still gaping, outraged.

"By the way," he smirked over his shoulder, "hot pink is definitely your color, I had an excellent view."

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A/N: I have no idea if anyone still cares about this series but I was slammed with inspiration and couldn't not write this. Reviews, as always, are much appreciated.


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